Katherine
by Halia Stone
Summary: Both men reflect on the woman and her impact on their lives while she's on her deathbed. AU scene from 5x11


**This pretty much only came about because I'm bitter there was never any Damon/Klaus interaction in the brief crossovers we got, so it could be terrible, but if it is I'm sure someone'll tell me. :)**

**I'm also calling bullshit on the whole 'Katherine dying' affair anyway; Amara only needed one sip from Silas and she became mortal, so why did **_**Silas**_** need all of it? Such crap... I still maintain to this day turning Katherine human was one of the stupidest things ever. Then they did her so dirty in the series finale—she's the queen of hell, yet she's still a weak human? Gimme a break. **

* * *

Of course, Katherine Pierce's spawn would be just as conniving and devious as she was... Of _course,_ something had to interfere with Katherine's impending—and long overdue—death. And thanks to said interference, Damon was currently scouring the woods around the boarding house for where Nadia had buried Matt alive.

He didn't care about Donovan—how he wasn't dead was a mystery—but searching for him beat staying in the boarding house with Nadia, Katherine and a very judgmental Stefan. But, admittedly, not by much.

(He bet if Stefan had his heart crushed after a century and a half of loving someone, he'd be as bitter and angry as he was)

At least his search meant he could drink in peace. Sure, Matt was buried alive and slowly suffocating, but Damon had needs too. He had snagged another bottle of tequila before he had left to look. He supposed if worst came to worst, they could always use it as fuel for Donovan's body and give him a Viking send off.

Damon strained his ears for the sounds of muffled screams and clanging, sighing loudly as there was nothing. The grounds were _huge_, what hope in hell did they have of finding him? Dead _or_ alive?

He was about to dart off to the eastern side of the property grounds when a powerful presence stopped him in his tracks.

"Didn't think I'd see you back here again," Damon called out. _Speaking of Vikings..._

Klaus smiled and stepped closer. "Well, once you told me Katherine Pierce was on her deathbed a pathetic and frail human I couldn't put New Orleans in my rear-view mirror fast enough," he said as a matter-off-fact.

Damon made a face of agreement; he couldn't blame him. "Come to gloat then?" he chuckled, "You just missed the shot session, unfortunately," he added with a mock-sympathetic wince.

"'S all that's left," he finished, holding up the bottle of tequila and giving it a little shake.

"Sorry I missed it," Klaus apologized, "I've plenty I could say about Katherine Pierce after she evaded me for five-hundred years," he added, folding his arms with a glint in his eye.

Damon arched an eyebrow. "Seemed like she was more committed to your vendetta than you were," he mused.

Klaus tilted his head in confusion. Damon elaborated;

"Was probably easy for her to run for a while, what with you apparently running New Orleans for a while." Some need for vengeance if Klaus could take a holiday.

Then something clicked in Damon's brain—Klaus could certainly get his points across with violence and bloodshed, but he had already _done_ that when he slaughtered Katherine's family and her entire village. His torture of her seemed more psychological, a horrible game of cat and mouse that led to her screwing over everyone she so much as laid eyes on in order to stay alive and five steps ahead of him.

Crafty bastard...

Ignoring the weird twinge in his chest when he thought about it, Damon said, "You were just making her think you were hunting her down," he pointed an accusing finger at Klaus, who maintained a wolfish grin and made no move to stop him, "That way she'd spend eternity looking over her own shoulder," he added.

_Talk about psychological warfare, _he thought to himself. "You wouldn't have killed her," Damon concluded confidently, folding his arms with a slightly smug look on his face.

Klaus arched an eyebrow. "Oh, wouldn't I?" he challenged but when Damon made no move to rescind his statement, he added in a sarcastic drawl, "Since you seem to be such the expert, thrall me with your acumen."

"You had plenty of opportunities to put her out of her misery when you had her captive after the sacrifice," Damon pointed out, remembering it was only thanks to Klaus giving Katherine a way out and time to decide whether she wanted to give him the cure to his wolf bite, "Or you could've sacrificed her in it!" he added, just thinking of the delicious irony of Katherine dying in the sacrifice she had already avoided by dying once. Not to mention Elena and Jeremy would still have an aunt if she had.

"Why didn't you?" he wondered, remembering that back then he had been privately relieved she hadn't been brutally murdered.

(At least that would've been a more fitting end rather than a goddamn heart attack)

"Why didn't you kill her when _you_ had the chance?" Klaus retorted, Damon briefly feeling like ice water had been thrown over him at the memory, "There was a masquerade ball a few years ago, correct?" he asked.

"She'd linked herself to Elena," Damon said simply, shrugging, "If Katherine died, so did she," he explained—his vendetta wasn't so great he had been able to risk someone he cared about.

"But I'm sure you've had plenty opportunities to put her out of her misery today," Klaus said knowingly, coming closer with a glint in his eye, "Smother her with a pillow, break her neck, jam a knife in her heart..." he trailed off with a smirk, "You were probably more content with making her suffer," he guessed.

He didn't make any move to correct him; it was petty as hell tormenting a dying woman, but Damon wanted her to feel even a fraction of the soul-destroying pain he had felt when she tore his heart out and told him she never cared about him.

"Seems we really do have a lot in common, Damon," Klaus continued, smiling much to the younger vampire's surprise.

And who would've thought? Talking was strangely therapeutic. "I'm actually the reason she's dying right now," he revealed, not sure whether he was saddened or pleased about it.

From the expression on the hybrid's face, Klaus hadn't been expecting _that_. "Really?"

Damon sat down on a nearby tree stump and gestured for Klaus to sit on one opposite. He did, and Damon set the bottle of tequila down between them.

"Turns out Silas wanted the cure to be mortal and die with his true love Amara—easier said than done, that—but Elena feeding it to Katherine put a kink in his plans," he explained, Klaus looking pleasantly surprised at what he had missed, "Until he figured out he needed all of Katherine's blood to become human," he added.

Her horrified screams echoed in his mind, but he shoved them down. "No idea she was gonna wake up after that, though," he finished with a mock-shudder. _Or age rapidly_, he thought to himself, refusing to acknowledge the stab of guilt he felt.

It only intensified when Klaus chuckled, but he didn't show it.

"And how was dear Katherine taking to human life?" he wondered gleefully.

"Not well," Damon said bluntly, remembering the state she'd been in when she turned up at the boarding house in the beginning of summer—

Seemed like a life-time ago now.

—and worked herself into hysterics at the mere thought of blisters. "You probably would've enjoyed watching her suffer through just having an alcohol tolerance," he added, snorting with genuine laughter. She had become such a lightweight.

"Gotta say," he continued, pausing to rub a hand over his face, "It wasn't easy giving her over like that, though," he admitted. He had thought it would feel a lot more satisfying to see her lifeless body.

"No?" Klaus said in confusion, his brow furrowing, "I would've thought you'd be glad to be rid of her," he said in disbelief.

Damon huffed out a laugh. He thought so too.. "Okay, the only way I can do this is with booze," he proclaimed, getting up from the tree stump, "Care to join me?" he offered, looking at Klaus expectantly before he picked up the tequila and started walking in the direction of the boarding house.

"I thought you'd never ask," Klaus said, getting up and following him with a pleasant smile.

"But why are we going inside when you have it here?" he asked, gesturing to the bottle.

"Because we need glasses," Damon stated obviously, "We may be vampires, but we're not savages," he added.

"And besides, I'm not sharing this bottle with you," he continued, "I don't know where you've been," he finished, grinning at the look of disbelief Klaus gave him.

When they made it to the boarding house, the parlor was deserted. Stefan and Nadia must've been upstairs with Katherine. Damon could hear her slow, soft breaths; she was probably asleep.

Klaus let out a low, impressed whistle at the remnants of shot glasses and tequila bottles before asking, "So, where is the lovely Katherine?"

Damon shrugged, walking over to the liquor cart. "Probably drugged up and comatose," he said, getting out two glasses and swapping the tequila for whiskey. He was gonna need stronger stuff for this.

He poured two glasses, handing one to Klaus when he walked over. He briefly glanced down the hallway leading to the stairs, probably able to sense her as well.

"Perhaps I'll pay my respects when she's a little more _compos mentis_," he mused, talking a sip of his drink.

Damon practically snorted into his. "You'd probably give her another heart attack," he chuckled, looking Klaus up and down appreciatively.

"A _heart attack?_" Klaus repeated incredulously, "_That's_ what put the great Katherine Pierce on her death bed?" he asked, an expression of disdain crossing his face.

"How..."he paused, his free hand gesticulating as if he was trying to pull the right word out of thin air, "ill-fitting," he decided finally.

"Indeed," Damon said with a tight smile, taking a gulp and letting the whiskey burn down his throat. He was almost tempted to go and put Katherine out of her misery for his own benefit; he couldn't stomach the ignominy of her dying from something as pathetic as a heart attack.

"I always thought the old girl would go out in a hail of blood and fire," Klaus mused, breaking Damon out of his reverie, "I'm almost disappointed on her behalf," he admitted.

"Still," he continued, "I would've thought you would've been at the top of the list of people wanting her dead?" he wondered.

"A while ago I was, but..." Damon trailed off, waving a dismissive hand when he had no idea where he was going with it.

"She changed your life," Klaus concluded for him.

"You could say that," Damon said with a heavy sigh, drinking all of his remaining whiskey down in a large gulp. 'Changed' wasn't exactly the word he'd use, but he didn't feel like correcting Klaus.

Instead he replenished his glass with more whiskey.

"And you loved her for a century and a half," Klaus continued, Damon turning to him with a raised eyebrow. Where the hell was he going with this? "That doesn't just go away in a heartbeat because you're desperate for it to," he pointed out, sounding like he actually had some experience with the matter.

Damon snorted derisively; he doubted _that_. The thought of Klaus Mikaelson having a century and a half hang up on someone was almost as laughable as the current situation Katherine had gotten herself into.

"No matter how many acid retorts you try and bury it under or how hard you try to pretend you hate her," Klaus finished.

Damon narrowed his eyes. He _did_ hate her; hated her for essentially wasting a good portion of his immortal life over her. The least of things he hated her for outweighed the reasons why he had loved her.

"You charge by the hour, doc?" he asked with a chuckle, "Sounds like a therapy session," he pointed out.

"Would be a rather unorthodox one if we were," Klaus smirked, glancing between their collective glasses of whiskey, "We're just taking a moment to reflect on a woman who has had a profound impact on both of our lives while she's dying," he corrected.

"Right." Damon supposed this was as close to a proper eulogy as Katherine was going to get, from him anyway.

"I knew she was only the key ingredient to breaking my curse when I met her," Klaus began, taking some of the weight off Damon's shoulders, "But I actually enjoyed spending time with her," he admitted.

"But the more I did, the more trouble I was in," he continued, taking a sip of his whiskey.

"I still would've gone through with the ritual though, make no mistake," he finished.

For once, Damon was on Katherine's side. "Not sure running counts as a betrayal," he said uneasily, "You were gonna kill her," he added.

Klaus gave a thin smile. "Of course, I don't expect you to understand the agony of having a part of yourself repressed through no fault of your own," he said scathingly, "It was the rift she caused between Elijah and I that still exists to this day that I viewed as a betrayal," he added a little more softly, the sad look in his eyes vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

"Not unlike the one between yourself and Stefan," he pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't even get me started on that," Damon said in disgust, swallowing down some whiskey to curb the sour look on his face.

"S'pose I'm grateful in a weird way," he added, pausing and glancing around for any sign of Stefan, "Without her, I would've died in a war and never had my body claimed because my father never gave a crap about me," he said dejectedly, forcing a chuckle out of his mouth. He was even second best to his goddamned father!

"Although, turned out she never did," he continued, deciding Klaus was the best person to unload on, being that he would be gone soon and wouldn't care enough to hold it against him later. "It was always Stefan," he remarked bitterly, not sure if the burning in his chest was the whiskey or the painful reminder of his heartbreak.

Nah, it was the whiskey. Had to be...

"She must've felt something for you too," Klaus said knowingly, "Otherwise, why would she have turned you?" he wondered with a look of confusion.

Damon often wondered that himself. He groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. "Okay, this is getting a little too much like a therapy session," he warned, pointing an accusing finger.

"You could use it," Klaus retorted simply, perching himself on the armchair of the couch, "And I'm the only one here," he pointed out.

"I probably wouldn't have even looked twice at Elena if Katherine hadn't said that," Damon admitted, wondering what harm it would do now. She was dying and it wouldn't change anything, couldn't fix what had become so tarnished. He couldn't help but think about what would've been different if Katherine had chosen him that night.

"Hate that strong can only come from a conflicting emotion equally as strong," Klaus said wisely.

"Is that why Stefan hates you so much?" Damon asked with a false sense of shock, trying to deflect where the conversation was going, "What did you two get up to in the twenties?" he added with a mischievous grin.

Klaus didn't rise to the bait, just gave him a thin smile and an expectant look, as if he could see through him.

Sighing into the heavy silence, Damon asked, "You wanna know the kicker?" and made sure to lower his voice as he admitted, "In a way, I'm actually gonna miss her."

Klaus was right; she had been the defining force of his life that had kept him going through the hardships a hundred and forty-five years bought him. A simple memory of her so much as laughing helped him survive the torture those Augustine bastards put him though and contrary to him tricking Lexi, it was the memory of Katherine that bought him back from the edge of no humanity. He supposed in that regard it had never truly been off, otherwise he wouldn't have felt the elation he had when he first found out about the tomb and initially thought Katherine had been housed inside it, or the all-encompassing shock of hurt, confusion and betrayal when he found out she had never cared about him at all.

To know that the catalyst to all those events and emotions in his life would soon be gone—and in a totally un-Katherine Pierce like fashion of a heart attack—felt all too real and sickening. All that bravado about killing her was just that; bravado. Because how was he supposed to truly hate the woman that had given him a purpose in life and helped him make something of himself beyond being Giuseppe Salvatore's degenerate son?

He groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. He would've thought he would be the first in line to dance on Katherine's grave if she ever found herself in one but now the thought made him sick.

Klaus was the first to break the monotony, raising his glass: "To Katerina."

"Destroyer of lives, master of evil schemes," Damon pitched in, raising his own and sounding almost proud, "Evil, manipulative bitch," he added snidely.

"Poetic," Klaus snorted with a quirk of his lips, "May you burn in Hell and all that nonsense, my dear," he added in a strangely fond sounding voice.

"We look forward to seeing you there," Damon finished, clinking his glass against Klaus'.

As they both drank, a very small part of Damon was hoping Katherine would find a way out of this impending death as well, just as she always did. She was Katherine Pierce, she had told him, she was a survivor.

He put his empty glass down and reached for the tequila bottle—Klaus was here, no sense in keeping it all to himself—and paused with a frown. He tossed the bottle back and forth between his hands, as if he was trying to remember something.

"Something the matter?" Klaus asked, catching sight of his expression.

"Can't help but feel like there's something I'm meant to be doing," Damon said slowly, racking his brain but coming up with nothing.

Oh well. He filled up his glass and Klaus', who smiled appreciatively. What was the worst that could happen?


End file.
